


Build A Bridge To Anywhere (To Have A Home To Turn To)

by BlackUnicorn



Series: The Road Goes Ever On An On [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Baby Teddy Lupin, Boys in Skirts, Canonical Character Death, Coming Out, Draco Malfoy is a Good Parent, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Good Draco Malfoy, Grief/Mourning, Gryffindor Scorpius Malfoy, Hair Dyeing, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Next Generation, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Other, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Punk Scorpius Malfoy, References to Depression, Self-Discovery, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, Teddy Lupin is Awesome, boys in makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackUnicorn/pseuds/BlackUnicorn
Summary: Edward Remus “Teddy” Lupin always had been and always would be a light in Draco Malfoy’s life and the bane of his existence. The human incarnation of a ray of sunshine was a blessing and a curse and Draco’s life would have probably turned out very differently if it hadn’t been for that boy.OrFive times Teddy saved the day and one time he didn’t have to





	Build A Bridge To Anywhere (To Have A Home To Turn To)

**1.**

 

Draco wasn’t sure what day it was. Monday, maybe?

Yeah, Monday sounded about right and it was as good a day as any.

He woke up when the sun was already high in the sky, feeling tired and exhausted. He didn’t bother putting any clothes on or even taking a shower. Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had showered.

He was distantly aware that his room was a mess, the floor littered with dirty laundry, parchment rolls, quills, and books, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Lying in his bed, motionless, the blond listened to the silence of the Manor.

There was a clock on the wall.

Ticking.

Ticking.

Ticking.

“Draco?” the soft voice of his mother sounded through the door but Draco ignored it. “You should eat, dear. You haven’t eaten in days.”

Hadn’t he? Draco couldn’t remember.

“I am just going to leave the plate here,” Narcissa announced and then she was gone and Draco was alone with his thoughts once more.

Screams. There had been so many screams.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco tried to ignore the noise in his head, the images that had been burned into his mind.

Without looking, Draco grabbed the vial on his bedside table and downed the Potion in it. Dreamless Sleep.

Within seconds he was finally embraced by tranquillity once more.

 

Draco still wasn’t sure what day it was. He thought he remembered deciding that yesterday was Monday, which would make today a Tuesday. Not that it mattered because they were all the same.

He still hadn’t showered or eaten.

The clock on the wall was still ticking.

 

Ticking.

 

Ticking.

 

Ticking.

 

_Bang!_

Draco woke up to the sound of his door flying open.

“Get up!” a harsh voice bellowed.

“Wh –”

“Get up, take a shower, put some clothes on! You have 15 minutes.” Draco blinked several times, staring at the dark outlines f a woman standing in front of his bed. “Now!”

He wasn’t sure what it was but something in the woman’s voice made him move and for the first time in…a long time…he left his bed. The air in his room was stuffy and dusty, the water on his skin nice and warm, the fresh clothes on his skin, soft and comforting. Draco didn’t dare look at the mirror, he could imagine how he looked, too thin and too pale.

Cautiously, the blond descended the stairs and was met by his aunt in the kitchen, cooking.

“Ah, you’re up, chop these for me, would you?” without looking the witch pointed at the table which was covered in fruits. Apples, strawberries, oranges, bananas. Draco blinked again but he didn’t have the energy to object so instead he simply did as he was told and began chopping. After the fruit, there were vegetables, and after the vegetables he found himself at the stove, following Andromeda “call me Andy” Tonks’ precise instructions on cooking.

“Get your mother, I’ll set the table,” Andy all but ordered and, again, Draco complied. It was easier this way.

He found his mother in the garden and he was surprised to see how much it had changed. While _he_ had been staying at the Manor, his mother hadn’t tended to her garden and it had withered and died, now, it was blooming in all colours, a little piece of paradise in a world of grey and black. And she wasn’t alone. On Narcissa’s lap sat a baby, a little boy with bright blue hair and cat eyes.

Edward Remus Lupin.

“Draco!” his mother stood up the second she saw her son, smiling, “How are you feeling, dear?”

Draco shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the child which was staring back at him, slowly, the boy’s features changed. The eyes became bigger, green becoming grey, blue hair turning blond, until Draco was faced with a baby version of himself, and then Edward smiled and stretched his arms out towards Draco.

“Here.” Without a warning, Narcissa placed the baby into his arms, “I think he likes you.”

They returned to the kitchen and ate and for the first time Draco noticed how hungry he must have been. Starved almost.

He still hadn’t let go of Edward.

“Come with me, Draco,” Andy demanded after almost all the food was gone.

Draco followed his aunt into the garden, the baby secure in his arms, and they sat.

“Your mother owled me,” she explained, “What are you doing, boy? Marinating in self-pity?  I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, it was horrifying, I’m sure, traumatising, the whole world is judging you because you and your parents made mistakes. Your father is in prison, where he belongs if you ask me, your mother is on house arrest, and you? You’re poisoning yourself with those Potions, sleeping the day away, hiding. You’re hiding, Draco. Why?”

Draco blinked. He hadn’t expected this.

“He tortured them,” he whispered hoarsely, “Right there in the Drawing Room, did you know that used to be my favourite room growing up? I can’t go in there in anymore, I can’t even look at the door without hearing their screams. He fed them to his snake. He made us watch. And laughed. I can still hear his laugher. And every time, I just stood by and did nothing. I could have stopped it, I should have done something, but I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t have,” Andy replied, “He would have killed you and then you would be dead.”  
“Then I should be.”

“No.” It was a simple word but for Draco it was like a slap in the face, “You want to make things better? Work for it. Now’s your chance to show the world who you really are. I was born a Black and yet have you ever seen my family name stop me from doing exactly what I wanted? What do you _want_ , Draco?”

“I don’t want to be my father,” Draco confessed.

“Then don’t be. Go back to Hogwarts, help them repair the castle, finish your education and _do_ something with your life.” Despite the harsh words, Draco could see the sympathy in her eyes and when she spoke again, her voice was soft, gentle, “You’re not alone, Draco. You have your mother who loves you more than anything. And you have me and Teddy. We’re family.” She stood up, dusting off her robes, “Think about it,” she said before turning around and leaving Draco with Edward – Teddy – in the garden.

“Andy,” Draco called out just as his aunt was about to enter the house, “What day is it?”

Andy turned around, smiling. “It’s Friday, dear, it’s Friday.” And then she was gone and Draco was alone.

“Dwaco.”

Except he wasn’t alone.

Teddy grinned up at him, his hair now pitch-black and his nose that of a vulture, making him look a little bit like Severus Snape.

“Dwaco.”

Draco smiled down at the boy, this little bundle of human sunshine who had lost his parents but was still smiling, his eyes shining with life, amazement, hope.

“Hey, Teddy,” he whispered, choking on a sob as his vision blurred and tears began running down his cheeks.

It was a Friday and for the first time in a long time, Draco cried, smiling as he held his little cousin close to his chest.

* * *

 

**2.**

 

_Dead mum, dear dad,_

_Remember what you’ve always told me growing up?_

_“You’re more than a name, Scorpius. Always remember that,” you used to say, well, I’d like you to remember that right now. And maybe you should sit down. That would be good, too._

_I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, have been Sorted into Gryffindor._

_There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?_

_I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, however I am not sorry for the Hat’s decision._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

_PS: I hope you’re still sitting. I think I also made a friend. His name is Albus Potter and he’s in Slytherin and he’s the coolest person I’ve ever met!_

 

Draco read the letter over and over again but the words remained the same. He was, in fact, sitting down, Astoria standing behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, darling?” she asked.

 _Gryffindor_ , he thought.

“Potter,” he said.

“Oh dear,” his wife muttered and swiftly sat down next to him, taking the letter from his hands, “Please tell me this won’t be an issue.”

Blinking, he looked up at the younger woman. Having Astoria in his life had been one of the best things that could have happened to him and every day he was grateful for her presence.

“I – ” shocked, Draco realised that he was lost for words. He had no idea what to say, what to think. Was it an issue? He didn’t know.

“Draco,” Astoria began but Draco simply shook his head and stood up, “I need to think,” he informed her, leaving the room to go up to his study where he kept an emergency bottle of Ogden’s Finest.

_Gryffindor._

_Potter._

_Gryffindor._

_Potter._

_Gryffindor._

_Potter._

The glass in his hand burst into a million little pieces, coating his hand in Firewhisky, little shards cutting into his palm.

“Fuck!”

“Draco!”

Panting heavily, Draco turned around to see Teddy standing in the door of his study. The 19-year old looked shocked, amused, and angry, all at the same time, his hair a pastel purple with matching eyes, he was hearing a white dress and white heels.

“I came as soon as I heard. Sit down.”

Draco complied, too much reminded of Teddy’s grandma to not do it. That woman was bloody terrifying when she wanted to be and Teddy, despite his calm temper and kind heart, was no different.

 _Never cross a Tonks_ , he reminded himself.

With a lazy wave of his wand, Teddy cleaned up the mess on the floor before tentatively approaching Draco in his arm chair.

“Hand.”

Carefully, Teddy cleaned out the wounds on his hand, his touch gentle but precise, murmuring spells under his breath to close the skin. It was good work. Draco would know, he was a Healer himself.

“Talk.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Draco managed to push all his feeling somewhere to the back of his head, clearing his mind.

“Why Gryffindor?” he asked eventually, “Why not Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? I don’t care that he’s not in Slytherin but why Gryffindor?”

_Why Potter?_

“Because your son is brash and confident and has more courage than brains. Because your son is stubborn and strong and has a better moral compass than anyone I know. Because your son, Draco Malfoy, is not you.”

He was right. Of course he was right. Teddy was always right.

He still remembered the first letter he received from the eleven-year old boy after his first week in Hogwarts, proudly announcing that he was going to be ‘the coolest Hufflepuff, Hogwarts has ever seen’ and what do you know, a few years later, everyone wanted to either be Teddy or be with him.

“You’re right,” Draco said slowly.

“Of course, I’m right,” Teddy replied, “I’m always right.”

“What do I do?”

“Be the father I know you are and tell your son you love him.”

“What about Potter?”

“What about him? They’re old enough to make their own friends and if Harry says something against that friendship I’m going to have words with him. Or what’s left of him probably since Ginny will get to him first.”

At that, Draco chuckled.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all

 

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Congratulations!_

_We love you so much and we are proud of you and you should never think that we could be disappointed in you because of something like this._

_You’ll do well in Gryffindor._

_As to Albus Potter, you know that I and his father have not seen eyes to eye when we were younger but that is in the past and just as you are not me, Albus is not his father either and as long as you are happy, I am happy. We both are._

_Please do tell us about your first days at Hogwarts._

_We miss you_

_Mum and dad_

_PS: Teddy says hi and wishes you the best of luck._

* * *

 

**3.**

 

It was scary how fast time could pass. To Draco it seemed like only yesterday he had waved his son goodbye for his first year at school and today he was already back at King’s Cross waiting for Scorpius to exit the Hogwarts Express.

“Mum! Dad!”

A small, platinum blond boy came running towards them and Draco could feel his heart soar up in his chest.

“Hello, son,” he greeted Scorpius and immediately enclosed him in a tight hug.

“I missed you,” Scorpius muttered into Draco’s belly.

“We missed you, too.”

After another five-minute hug between Scorpius and Astoria, they were finally ready to leave the platform and Apparate to the Manor, while their son kept talking continuously, “-and Professor Longbottom is nice, I like him, he came to me on the first day, asking me if I needed help telling you about my Sorting and if I ever had any trouble I could come and talk to him any time. I don’t like Potions, it’s stupid and I’m way too clumsy. I accidentally knocked over the Dragon’s Blood and it spilled all over the floor, so Professor Nott had me stay longer to clean it up but Al stayed too and helped me and after that he always made sure I didn’t break anything else and helped me with my Potions. He’s so good at it! It’s amazing! And History of Magic is really boring, I mean why would they let a ghost teach it? It doesn’t make sense, except maybe it’s cheaper for the school? Do you think they pay Professor Binns? I mean it’s not like can do anything with the money, he’s literally dead. Oh, and one time, there was this really mean boy in Gryffindor and he called Albus a traitor for being in Slytherin, so I punched him in the face because Al is my friend and no one talks about my friend like that – that reminds me! Can Al come and visit me?”

“Al – bus Potter?” Draco asked, just to make sure. It was astonishing how much Scorpius could talk in one go and how passionate he became.

“Of course him, dad! I don’t have any other friends!”

At that, Draco had to swallow hard. He didn’t think Scorpius even realised what he had just said, and what it had meant.

_I don’t have any other friends!_

It broke his heart. But then, Scorpius didn’t seem sad about that fact, on the contrary, he was practically glowing and Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his son so excited.

“Of course he can come, love,” Astoria answered, “Can’t he, Draco?” She gave Draco a pointed look and he quickly swallowed down the turmoil of emotions that was brewing inside him.

“If Albus’ parents agree, he’s welcome here, any time,” he said and was only a bit surprised to see that he meant it wholeheartedly.

“Brilliant! I’ll write him right now!” And then Scorpius was off, rushing up the stairs towards his room, undoubtfully to write a very long letter to a boy he had seen only half an hour ago.

 

The next day passed similarly with a lot of talking from Scorpius and a lot of listening from Draco and Astoria. Apparently, three of Scorpius’ dormmates, Phil McLaggen, Mika Gregor and Josh Lillith, had tried to hex him once, until the fourth one, Frank Longbottom, had stepped in and defended Scorpius, landing himself in the Hospital Wing. There was also a new Caretaker, Jack Carter, who sounded a thousand times more pleasant than Filch, and whose brother Johnny was the new librarian. Hufflepuff had won the House Cup while Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup, and Scorpius had found a new love for Muggle technology.

“Al told me all about it. There are these things they call _computers_ and you can practically do anything with them, and then there’s the _Internet_ with all the information and they have _mobile phones_ which are so much better than owls because you don’t have to wait for an answer and he has one and he showed it to me and he’s going to figure out how to make it work in Hogwarts and – dad, can I have a mobile phone?”

“We’ll see, Scorpius. I’m still a little sceptical when it comes to such things but I’m sure you can ask Andy all about it.”

“Will she and Teddy come over soon?”

“Why don’t you write and ask?”

“Okay!”

It was in that moment that an owl arrived at the Manor, Draco had never seen it before but it flew straight to Scorpius who _whooped_ in excitement.

“That’s Thorin, Al’s owl!” he explained and quickly took the letter Thorin was carrying.

Several moments, nothing happened. Scorpius stared at the letter, his face going through several expressions until settling on total blankness.

“Is everything okay, darling?” Astoria asked, crouching down in front of her son who raised his head and Draco was shocked to see tears in Scorpius’ eyes.

“He’s not coming,” he simply said and then ran out of the room.

“Scorpius!” Astoria called after him but Scorpius didn’t wait or answer. They heard the slamming of a door from upstairs and for the second time in two days, Draco’s heart broke. Not able to contain himself, he picked up the letter Scorpius had left behind and read.

 

_Hey Scorp,_

_I miss you too._

_James is being a git, like always, and Lily is always bugging me to play with her. I don’t want to play with her._

_I asked dad about coming to visit you and he said no. He wouldn’t even let me finish, he just said no and that was it. Mum tried to talk to him but he didn’t change his mind. I’m really angry at him, he’s always ruining everything and I think he hates me now that I’m in Slytherin. I know James does. Mum and Lily are the only ones who still treat me like always. Even uncle Ron and aunt Hermione looked at me funny when they came over yesterday, and uncle George kept making snake jokes._

_I’m sorry, Scorp. I would have loved to see your home. And the peacocks. Maybe I can sneak out. I know where dad keeps his Invisibility Cloak and I could just get the Knight Bus or_ _something._

_I hate it here. They don’t even know me and dad tried to get me into Quidditch again even though he knows I’m afraid of heights and James, Fred and Louis keep pranking me. The only good thing is that Teddy wants to take me to Muggle London on the weekend. I think he’s the only one besides you who understands me._

_I’m sorry and I miss you_

_Al_

 

Anger. Draco was overcome by a sudden wave of anger. How dare Harry bloody Potter make his own son feel like this? Just because he was in Slytherin?

“Fucking Potter,” he spat out and for once Astoria didn’t berate him for his language. She was just as upset.

“Poor boy, I really hope he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s 12, he can’t travel on the Knight Bus on his own.”

“I agree.”

“I’ll talk to, Scorpius,” Astoria reassured him and pressed a soothing kiss to Draco’s lips as she passed him to go upstairs.

A second owl arrived, Teddy’s owl.

 

_Clear your schedule for Saturday. I’m coming over for lunch._

_Your favourite cousin, Teddy._

 

Draco smiled weakly at the small note. At least Teddy might be able to cheer Scorpius up somewhat.

 

The next couple of days were miserable. Scorpius was sulking in his room and nothing Draco or Astoria said or did could make him feel better. Draco had never seen his son like this. So overly attached to another person.

Saturday came and Draco was in the kitchen to prepare lunch since Astoria refused to cook (“We might be married, but that does not make me your housewife!”), when the Protection Charms around the property announced a visitor.

“Scorpius, can you please let Teddy in!?” he called out, half expecting his son to say no but pleasantly surprised when the boy did indeed shuffle towards the door, “And raise your feet when you walk, please.”

He went back to the curry he was making when a shrill shriek nearly made him drop his wand.

“Scorpius!?”

Forgetting anything else, Draco rushed out of the kitchen towards the door, ready to defend his son, except – except, his son wasn’t under attack.

“Teddy?” Draco looked at his cousin in question who simply winked at him and then proudly looked back at the two boys who were hugging in the hallways.

“Alright boys, you’re both happy to see each other, now stop blocking the door,” the younger man said bemused.

“Thank you, Teddy!” Scorpius exclaimed and let go of Albus in favour of hugging Teddy, before grabbing Albus’ hand and dragging him towards the stairs, “Come one, I’ll show you my room!”

“How?” was the only thing Draco was able to ask once the two men were alone.

“I always take Al to London every other week,” he explained with a shrug, “But don’t tell anyone. Harry doesn’t know we’re here, and he would kill me if he did.”

“Are you sure the Sorting Hat didn’t make a mistake putting you in Hufflepuff?” Draco teased, deeply impressed by his cousin.

“Us Badgers might not be as cunning as you Snakes, but we can be sneaky as fuck,” Teddy simply replied and both men went to the kitchen. Laughing.

* * *

 

**4.**

 

Draco stared blankly at the grave in front of him.

Gone. She was gone.

Watching Astoria, such a graceful and strong woman, succumb to an illness like hers had been Draco’s worst nightmare. Seeing her getting weaker and weaker, fading away right before his eyes…

 _I should have saved her_ , he thought frantically, _I should have found a cure_.

Except there was no cure to the Curse she had suffered from.

Scorpius stood next to him, completely still. He hadn’t cried once since his mother had passed and Draco felt helpless when he looked at his son. How was he supposed to bring him up, now that one half of him was dead? How was he supposed to be good parent when it had always been Astoria who had guided him?

Carefully, Draco raised his hand to touch Scorpius, to hold him, to offer any kind of comfort, but the boy flinched and pulled away immediately, moving closer to Albus who was standing beside his friend and Draco could feel his heart grow cold. It hurt. He had lost his wife and he was about to lose his son. And it hurt.

A gentle hand lay down on his shoulder and Draco moved his head to see his mother, her expression somber, her eyes sympathetic, and Draco leaned into the touch, grateful.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, staring at the gravestone, but everyone was gone and the sun was slowly setting behind the trees when Draco heard tentative steps nearing.

“Go home, Draco. Your son needs you,” Teddy told him. His hair, usually in bright, happy colours, was a dull and brown and Draco could see dried tears on his cousin’s cheeks, his eyes red and puffy.

“Who’s with him?”

“Andy and Cissa.”

“Good…that’s good.” He turned back to the grave, holding back his tears. “What do I do?”

“Be the father I know you are and tell your son you love him.” Draco turned around at those familiar words, taking in his cousin. “He just lost his mum. Don’t let him lose his dad, too. I – I can’t pretend I know how any of you feel. I never really knew my parents and I have such a big family, it’s actually annoying sometimes but…I do know a thing or two about feeling lonely. And Scorp and you…don’t let each other get lonely. You need each other. You need to be strong for each other. You need to be close to each other.”

“When did you get so goddamn wise?” Draco asked, attempting a smile that felt strange on his face.

“I have my moments.”

“Thank you, Teddy. For everything.”

“That’s what family is for.”

 

That night, Scorpius and Draco didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the next morning. They had talked, long and intently, about Astoria. About her horrendous cooking and her favourite books and the million stories she had known. They had drunk hot chocolate in Scorpius bed and eventually fallen asleep side by side, Draco arms securely wrapped around his son as they had both allowed themselves to finally cry.

* * *

 

**5.**

 

Being a single dad wasn’t easy. There were so many things that Draco wasn’t even aware of that Astoria had done so naturally. She had always been the sensitive one, the emotional one, and whenever Scorpius had been upset about something, it had been her to comfort her, when Scorpius had had a secret, it had been her he had confided in first.

 “What’s this, then?” he asked as he stood in the door of his son’s room. His son who had just returned from his third year at Hogwarts.

“I’m redecorating,” Scorpius explained, as he took down another poster of Puddlemere United.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Hand me that poster, please,” Scorpius replied and pointed at a pile of posters on his bed, Draco picked up the first one and looked at it before handing it over to his son, “Joe Strummer?”

“He’s the lead singer of the Clash,” Scorpius answered.

“Of course he is…” Draco had absolutely no idea what in Merlin’s name _The Clash_ was.

“And another one, please.”

Next to Joe Strummer came Kurt Cobain, Brian Molko, and David Bowie.

“These are all male Muggles,” Draco pointed out.

“Er…yes?”

“Why would you want that on your wall?”

“Do you even know who these people are?”

“No, but - ”

“No, period. Now get out.”

 

“What the hell happened to your hair?”

Scorpius was standing in one of the bathrooms, his shirt discarded on the floor, his hand clutching his wand – Scorpius’ hair, however, was a disgusting greenish-muddy colour that distantly reminded Draco of Polyjuce Potion.

“I – er – I –” Scorpius stuttered, “Itriedtodyemyhair.”

Draco blinked.

“Why?”

“Because it’s cool?!” the teenager said exasperatedly.

“No.”

 

Draco was sitting in his study, reading the latest issue of the _Wizarding Journal of Healing_ , when the door burst open and his mother marched in, dragging his son behind her. His son who looked both deeply ashamed and highly terrified.

“What is going on?” he asked.

“I just caught your son going through Astoria’s belongings.”

“Merlin, Scorpius, are you okay?” he asked concerned. They had decided to put all of Astoria’s things in one of the guest rooms until they felt ready to decide what to do with them and the thought of Scorpius looking at them alone...

“I’m sorry, dad,” Scorpius muttered, his eyes downcast.

“Oh, he’s okay,” Narcissa assured him, “Scorpius, why don’t you step forward and show your father your face.”

_What?_

Scorpius glanced up at him, then at his grandmother, clearly unsure of what to do.

“It’s alright, son. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He more heard than saw his son gulp before stepping forward into the light.

“What?”

“I’m sorry dad,” Scorpius said again but he didn’t look away as tears began to form in his eyes, slowly rolling down his cheeks and smearing the make-up he had clearly put on.

“What?”

Scorpius turned around and ran.

 

 “What the _hell_ is your problem, Draco?” Teddy hissed. Draco had called his cousin as soon as he had heard Scorpius door slam shut and the sound of Muggle music from inside the room.

“My problem? Scorpius is the one acting out. Can you hear what he’s listening to? And you should see the posters he put up in his room. Last week he tried to dye his hair, _today_ he put Astoria’s make-up on!”

“So?”

“So?”

“Yeah, so?” Teddy looked at him expectantly.

“What am I doing wrong, Teddy?” Draco asked, hating how desperate he sounded, “I know the last year has been tough but I – I truly thought Scorpius and I were getting somewhere. We talk about his mum regularly, we play Quidditch together, he helps me cook, I offered to give him Potions lessons…what am I doing wrong?”

“Draco –” Teddy sighed, running his hand through his, his bright blue hair, Draco noticed that Teddy, too, seemed to be wearing make-up, paired with a crop to and very tight jeans, “Has it ever occurred that this might not be about you?”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, genuinely confused.

“I _mean_ , that this could be about Scorpius?” Teddy sat down in the arm chair, ignoring Draco’s frown at the action, “Why do you think I look the way I do? I’m a Metamorphmagus, I could literally look however I wanted.”

“I don’t –”

“I _like_ it, Draco. I like dressing up, I like feeling pretty. The dresses, the skirts, the make-up…every once in a while, I have days where I need those things because they make me feel good.”

“Okay.”

“Is it? Okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Draco exclaimed, “I never said anything, did I?”

“Then why would it be an issue if your son does those things as well?”

_Oh…_

“Scorpius is fourteen. He’s trying to figure himself out.”

_Ohh…_

“Let him,” Teddy told him, “You can’t stop it. What you _can_ do, is make your son feel loved, no matter what. Scorpius wants to listen to Muggle music? Let him listen to Muggle music! He wants to dye his hair? Let him dye his hair! He wants to wear make-up? Let him wear make-up! It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Shit…”

“Whoa where are you going?”

Draco had all but stormed out of his study, ignoring Teddy’s calls, and just stopped himself from bursting into his son’s room. Instead, he took a deep breath and knocked gently.

“Go away!”

“Scorpius!” he called out, “Please open the door! I owe you an apology!”

The music stopped and Draco held his breath as he heard steps approaching the door that opened seconds later. Then his hear stopped. Scorpius was a mess. He had obviously been crying, black traces on his face, his hair standing up in all directions.

“Come here.” Without waiting for permission, he pulled his son into a hug and held him close, “I’m sorry,” he whispered into the blonde’s ear, “And I love you. Never doubt that.”

“I love you too, dad.”

“Alright…let’s get you cleaned up and then you tell me what hair colour you want okay?”

* * *

 

**+1.**

 

It was the summer break between fourth and fifth year.

Draco Malfoy, 41, and his 15-year old son Scorpius were sitting in the garden of the Manor, drinking ice cold pumpkin juice and playing Wizard’s Chess – naturally, Draco was winning.

“Sometimes I think you enjoy the crushing humiliation you get from losing against me,” Draco teased the teenager.

It had been a bit on adjustment at first, seeing Scorpius like this. His hair was bright pink, he had an earing through his left earlobe, and was wearing mascara and eyeliner. Not to mention his clothes. Tight, ripped jeans, shoes called Doc Martens, and an almost see-though white shirt.

“Well, we can’t all play like Al,” Scorpius defended himself.

“True,” Draco admitted, “The Potter spawn is a real prodigy.”

“Don’t call him that.” All humour had left Scorpius’ voice, leaving it cold, almost threatening.

“What? A prodigy?”

“Spawn.”

“I know he’s your friend, Scorpius, and I do like him. I apologize for my poor choice of words,” Draco said calmly. It was true. Albus Potter was nothing like his father and Draco actually enjoyed spending time with the boy.

It was Scorpius’ next move but his son wasn’t even looking at the board, his eyes were trained on his fingernails, blue fingernails.

“Do you really not mind me looking like this?” Scorpius asked after a while, still not meeting his father’s eyes.

“No,” Draco answered without hesitation, “The colour of your hair or the choice of your clothes does not change the fact that you are my son and that I love you with all my heart. I’m proud of you, Scorpius.”

“What about –” Scorpius began but stopped himself, raising his head Draco saw fear in his son’s eyes, “What about the choice of my partner?” he asked, raising his chin in a wordless challenge.

 _Maybe the Hat did have a point sending him to Gryffindor_ , Draco thought.

“What partner?” Draco questioned even though he had a suspicious what partner Scorpius meant.

“Date partner. Significant other. Lover. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Scorpius –” Draco began, trying to quickly think of the right words.

“I’m gay, dad,” Scorpius blurted out and his mask slipped, his eyes grew wide with fear and that – that would just not do. Draco stood up, knocked into the chess board, and kneeled down in front of his son, smiling, “The colour of your hair, the choice of your clothes or you being gay, does not change the fact that you are my son and that I love you with all my heart. I’m proud of you, Scorpius,” he repeated his earlier words, making sure to hold eye contact.

“Thank you, dad.”

“No. Thank you for telling me.”

 

“So…Albus Potter?”

“Dad!”

“What? It’s a legitimate question.”

“Argh! You are so embarrassing.”

“So, that’s a yes then…”

“I don’t even know if he likes me back.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, he’s clearly an idiot…you’re perfect.” 


End file.
